


A Rough Day

by kashumaguflu



Series: acotar drabbles [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 15:51:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9190385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashumaguflu/pseuds/kashumaguflu
Summary: It's tough being High Lord of the Night Court.





	

Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court is the most powerful High Lord ever born. Needless to say, he works a lot. And all that work eventually catches up to him.

 

One night, he walks into his and Feyre’s bedroom, dragging his feet, exhausted from completing his duties that day. Dealing with Cassian’s sass and the major responsibilities of managing his court and his people is draining work. 

 

Feyre is lying on their enormous bed, reading one of their favorite books, the black, silken sheets caressing her body. As Rhys collapses on the bed, not bothering to remove his clothes or shoes, Feyre looks up from her book.

“Rough day, Mr. High Lord?” she asks, smiling.

 

He moves over until his head is resting on Feyre’s lap, and he mumbles a reply into the fabric of her nightgown.

Feyre looses a small laugh and sets down her book. She combs her fingers through Rhys’s soft hair, noticing how tight his shoulders are. “Roll over,” she commands softly.

 

Rhys peeks his head up to look at her, “What?”

 

“Roll over,” she repeats.

 

Rhys quietly obeys and lies flat on his stomach on the opposite side of the bed. Feyre sits up and crawls over to him. His violet eyes watch her as she silently sits on his lower back, placing her legs on either side of his hips, her short nightgown sliding further up her thighs. She gently places her hands on Rhys’s shoulders, digging in her fingers to loosen the knots. Rhys releases a deep groan into the pillow, the sound sending a jolt down Feyre’s spine. She continues massaging his shoulders and moves her hands down his back, firmly pressing her hands into the tight muscles.

 

“How does that feel?” she whispers and is met with another low groan. After Feyre loosens all of the knots in his shoulders and back, she sits back on her heels. Rhys gracefully flips his body over until he is lying on his back, Feyre now perched over his hips.

 

“What would I ever do without you, Feyre darling?” he says quietly, a beautiful smile gracing his lips.

 

Feyre lifts a hand and brushes the hair out of his face, pressing her mouth to the sensitive skin at his temple. “Well, I’m not going anywhere, so I’ll always be here when you need me.”

 

Rhys stares at her, his eyes flitting from her eyes, to her mouth, to her body resting on top of his, and back up again. “I’ll always need you, Feyre. Always.”

 

She smiles and places her lips against his. Rhys runs his hands up and down the soft skin of her thighs. Feyre softly moans into his mouth and he tightens his grip, fingers digging into her skin.

 

Rhys pulls back slightly. “Allow me to return the favor,” he mumbles against her lips. A feline smirk.

 

The two were late to breakfast the next morning.

 


End file.
